


Registered Primary

by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)



Series: Priority (LoZ - D:BH AU) [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Android Link, Androids, Angst, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Gen, Kid Zelda, Modern Day Hyrule, OOC Zant, and i'm naming it Castletown, detroit: become human is my city now, if u kno Kara's route from D:BH, sorry - Freeform, there's no other excuse for it he's just...................................ooc, u kno what's going down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: DON’T MOVE.DON’T MOVƎ. (?)





	Registered Primary

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my brother-in-law entirely for this. Oh and uh, I've stolen the _Detroit: Become Human's_ setting from David Cage and said fuck him; my city now.
> 
> Somehow, that process involved Zelda & Link and re-imagining Hyrule in this not-too-futuristic, somewhat-modern-day-ish place.
> 
> BIG THANKS to [Koko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokoai/pseuds/Kokoai) and [Quetz](https://twitter.com/Quetzacotlchu) for talking out this AU with me when I first got it. Their patience with me is astounding.

> **MODEL BW300  
****> > SERIAL #: 030 320 170  
****> > BIOS 19.0 REVISION 2689**

> **REBOOT…  
****  
****> MEMORY RESET**

> **LOADING OS…**

> **SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…  
****> > CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK  
****> > INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK  
****> > INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK**

> **MEMORY STATUS…  
****> >ALL SYSTEMS… OK**

> **READY**

* * *

Sound registers first: the hubbub and growing dissonance of chatter in the corner store. People mingling and shopping and negotiating and purchasing and browsing. 

“...I retrieve it?”

“Yeah. Right back there.” A brown hand points in its direction. “I've gotta admit: it was pretty difficult to get it back into working order again. The vocal system was missing. Had to reorder and customize the necessary components so it’d work with this model. What did you say happened to it?”

“A car accident.”

“Gotcha.” A sharp inhale through teeth. “Well, it's good as new now. Except for its memory. Had to wipe that out for the whole system to reboot and reset. I hope that's all right.”

“It's fine.”

“Did you give it a name?”

“As a matter of fact, my daughter did.”

“Aw, that's great! Gotta love that.”

A shadow--falling across its vision. Two faces: one brown and smiling and Hylian, adjusting the glasses on his round face. The other stands at his shoulder, pale and wan and Twili and drawn as death.

“BW300, please register your name.”

The Hylian with the glasses steps away. The pallid Twili steps forward.

“Link,” he says.

> **My name is Link.**

BW300 echoes, “My name is Link.”

* * *

> **Registered Household Members: 1.** **  
** > **Household Member Zant: 38 years old.**

The truck pulls up beside a sagging white-wood, two-story house with paint peeling at its edges and a thin oak front door. A brown fence boards off the backyard with no gate to enter it. Zant, with his ghost-like skin and dark lips, steps out to the asphalt. Link follows suit.

They meet on the sidewalk and Zant immediately presses the side of his hand into Link's chest.

“Give it here.”

Link looks up. When Zant does not elaborate or clarify his command, it opens its mouth to answer. 

Like lightning, Zant's hand fastens around its throat.

The spinning light at Link’s temple flickers red. 

“Rule number one,” Zant hisses and Link very carefully does not move though the man's fingers press and jab into its neck. With practiced ease, the fingers swipe away tanned skin grafts and press open a now-exposed white panel on the nape of Link's neck. “I am not talked back to in this household.”

Foreign fingers press and dig into Link's interior. A _click,_ a _yank,_ an alert window pop-up later, and Zant pulls free biocomponent #CC211986. Link's eyes watch as the Twili tosses its vital voice box to the concrete, raises his boot, and stomps once, then twice.

When he lifts his foot again, Link can see the voice box crumpled and shattered.

> **Speech function disabled.**

“Now close your neck and come inside. You've been gone two weeks, so there is lots of cleaning to be done, as well as dinner to be prepared. If you do not want to lose anymore parts, I suggest you get to it.”

> **Registered Primary: CLEAN.  
**> **Registered Secondary: DINNER.**

Link attempts to affirm, but no speaker and no converter and no transmitter--no voice box at all--eliminates whatever words it could possibly produce. So Link nods and the loose neck panel on its back swings. Out of the corner of Link's eye, it seems as if one of the white curtains on the second floor has been pushed back by a small, golden head. But by the time it turns to look, no one is there to see.

> **Registered Household Members: 2. (?)**

* * *

Link has an observer as it goes about its tasks. At first the observer sits on the stairs with a doll in her hands, trying to pretend she is not watching Link as closely as she is. Link notes her presence and monitored surveillance once and makes no note of it again. But then, when the observer follows Link into the kitchen, peeking around the doorway as it washes two-week old dish stains and grime, Link again turns to acknowledge her. By the time Link has looked, however, its observer has once more ducked out of sight.

Link finishes the first floor and laundry in relative good time. After a quick download of a comprehensive HSL communications module, Link steps to the couch in the living room. Zant sits rigidly on the faded blue cushions, his dark eyes glued to the Hyrule news telecasted before him. Next to his leg lies curled his belt he had taken off when he first arrived home. In his hand rests a grey, smoky Shard. Wafts of identifiable Fused Shadow reach Link's nose.

> **Household Member Zant exhibits symptoms of addiction.**

_I have finished the first floo--_

Zant cuts him off with a hand without looking. “Don't try using that sign drivel with me. You know I don't understand it, so fuck off. Leave me be.”

Link pauses, hands frozen in the air. 

> **Household Member Zant does not know Hylian Sign Language.**

There's a telling, rapid _thump-thump-thump_ of little booted feet on the stairs. But yet again, when Link turns to look, the observer is gone. 

* * *

The second floor takes less time than the first. The bathroom is the most difficult to scrub clean and Link is forced to order higher grade solution to ensure all the grime will eventually be removed for the sanitation and health of the registered household members. However, the cleaning products will not arrive until tomorrow, so Link does the best it possibly can with the tools currently available and moves on to the next and final room.

The white door has a standard printer paper taped to its front. Written in sparkling glue and dotted with small, multi-colored confetti of butterflies and flowers are the words: _ZELDA'S ROOM. NO ONE ELSE ALLOWED._

Another printer paper, taped just beneath and fluttering in the AC's draft, is written in hasty pink and blue crayon and accompanied by a sketch of an angry emoticon face: _STAY OUT!!!!_

> **Household Member Zelda expresses a desire for solitude.  
****> Registered Tertiary: DO NOT ENTER ZELDA’S ROOM.**

Link reads the words and compares the registered instructions with the primary and secondary commands it had been given before. The discrepancy is slight enough; perhaps Zelda will permit Link's entrance if it is only to clean her room.

Link knocks.

There is a shuffle within. After a long moment's pause, the doorknob turns, and the door opens just enough for a wide blue-green eye to peek out.

Link smiles.

> **Household Member Zelda: 9 years old.**

Something in Link’s programming lights up, expresses excitement, perhaps even eagerness. In the span of a second, Link scans over its built-in database of over nine thousand different bedtime stories and thousands more lullaby songs and games prepared for play and readies them. This girl is what Link was designed for. She is the one who named it. Children are the Priority to BW300 models and Link is eager to serve its purpose.

_May I enter so that I may clean for you?_

At first, Zelda takes so long to answer or show indication that she has understood, that Link interprets that perhaps Zelda, too, does not know HSL. It freezes and tries to process what the next approach should be, until finally Zelda nods and throws her door open wide. Before Link can do anything further or thank her, the girl dashes inside her room and dives underneath a pink blanket-canopied tent set against the corner. She throws her doll in her cross-legged lap and bends to hide her face in its brown stomach. Her chin-length blonde curls fall askew over her pointed ears.

> ~~**Registered Tertiary: DO NOT ENTER ZELDA’S ROOM.**~~

Link slowly walks inside and goes about its duty. Zelda's room has much less to straighten and pick up than her father's; it takes no time at all to retrieve the fallen books from her floating shelves and replace them or to pick up the fallen bat and softball glove from the corner and return them to the milk crate where her other little league belongings have been set. 

When at last the work is finished, Link turns one last time to Zelda, who now idly is making her doll dance. Protocol is to ensure the child of the household is happy and content, but the look on Zelda's young face is pinched. 

> **Household Member Zelda exhibits signs of distress.**

Link turns and crosses the floor to her blanket-fort and slowly kneels.

Quick as a hawk, Zelda's eyes latch on to Link's hands. There's a moment where her shoulders stiffen and lock up. But when Link starts to sign, her tension ebbs.

_Do you understand me when I talk to you like this?_

After a moment, Zelda nods.

> **Household Member Zelda understands Hylian Sign Language.**

Link registers this as a positive. No need to search for alternative routes for communication, then. Not for little Zelda. It starts to sign again, but Zelda interrupts, her voice small and meek and rough as if she hasn't spoken in quite some time.

“Do you remember me?”

Link pauses. With a blip of yellow from its LED, it searches its memory databank but can only find its visual recordings go back as far as its reboot this morning. Link shakes its head and circles a fist above its chest.

_Sorry._

Zelda's face falls. She looks down to the doll in her lap.

Link tilts its head. When Zelda doesn't do anything more, it leans down and softly waves for her gaze. _But we can make new memories together. I'm sure we had lots of fun before I had to be repaired. Will you tell me about yourself? I would like to get to know you._

Zelda's eyes flick to something over Link's shoulder. Link turns to look, but can see nothing except her white dresser with its blue handles and pink accents. There are a few magazines on top it had straightened a second ago, and a locked and hand-painted music box from a Hyrule Castle souvenir shop.

Link looks back to Zelda who again is tugging the arms of her doll right and left to make its dangling legs dance.

_Is this doll a friend of yours?_

Zelda blinks up at Link. Her lips press into a frown and self-consciously, she crosses her arms and squeezes the stuffed doll to her chest.

“Urbosa,” she finally murmurs after a long pause.

Link does a quick search. Urbosa: lead character in the critically-acclaimed Gerudo live-action children's television series, _Vah Naboris_. Historical fiction. Role played by a Gerudo actress of the same name. Filmed in Downtown Castletown. Time distance to the studio building is calculated to be a forty-five minute drive by vehicular automobile.

> **Household Member Zelda likes the show** **_Vah Naboris._  
**> **Household Member Zelda likes** **_Vah Naboris_ ** **'s main character, Urbosa.**

Link files the note and nods with a smile. When it lifts its hands again, suddenly, Zelda jumps to her feet. Her small face is scrunched; there's a watery look to the sea-green of her eyes that make them look like the distant oceans of Zora's Domain. From her jean shorts, she fishes out something small and metallic and it isn't until she shoves it into Link's palm that Link can identify it.

A key.

When Link next looks up, Zelda has fled the room. The sound of a closing door a short distance away registers to its audio processors that Zelda has taken refuge in the bathroom.

Link looks at the key again.

Memory recall replays the furtive glance Zelda had sent to her dresser and the magazines and locked music box set upon it.

Link stands and moves to the dresser.

The music box, when it opens, sings a tinny lullaby made famous by an ocarina artist seven years ago. It had been a song composed in tribute to the Royal Family after their only daughter was declared dead. Link shuffles through Zelda's collected Silent Princess petals and pet rocks with faces penned in marker on their surface. Beneath are folded sketchbook pages torn from their spiral binding. The drawings are in pink and blue crayon, dusted with sparkles.

The first depicts Zelda, all alone.

The second shows both household members: Zant and Zelda.

The third shows Link at their side. 

In the fourth, they stand at Hyrule Castle itself in the heart of Historic Castletown; a day trip, it must have been, to visit the museum and national monuments. Zelda is smiling in this one. The sun is very pink.

The fifth depicts the three again, but Link is between Zelda and Zant. Zelda is no longer smiling. The hot pink of Zant's mouth is open in a cry.

In the sixth, Link is broken. Its head and right arm have been torn from their sockets and the blue crayon is heaviest in the gaps where arm and shoulder and head and neck should meet. Zelda's tears are hard, jagged presses of blue, blue, blue.

> **A car accident is not what damaged me.**

The music box's lullaby has ended. Link hears Zant make a strange and gurgled sound downstairs. 

“Link!” the Twili calls, his voice slurred and warped around the effects of his inhaled Fused Shadow. “Hurry yourself; I'm starving! Where...the fuck is that blasted bot…?”

The round LED on its brow flashes between red and orange. Red. Yellow.

Link carefully refolds the drawings and returns them to the bottom of the music box. The pet rocks with their drawn faces are placed exactly how they had been found. At the top are set the thin and long Silent Princess petals, gently tucked inside. The music box is relocked. Link pockets the key with the intent to return it to Zelda at the first available moment. Everything is back where it had been. Everything is as it should be.   
  
Every order followed.

> **~~Registered Primary: CLEAN.~~  
**> **NEW! Registered Primary: DINNER.**

With a hurry to quicken each step, Link descends the stairs. The light at its brow is a cool, controlled blue.

* * *

Link’s olfactory sensors can detect the heavy amount of Fused Shadow that Zant has used by late evening. In an attempt to combat the smell for the sake of Zelda, Link sprinkles together garlic salt and olive oil and stirs it in with the Tabantha pasta and jar of tomato sauce it located in the spin-shelf cupboard. Unfortunately, it cannot find a vegetable to accompany the entree and round out the meal for the health of its registered household members. Another order is made to restock the dwindling pantry.

Link makes as much as is possible and sets the table and when Zelda finally tip-toes up with her small arm around Urbosa, Zant grudgingly follows and sets himself stiffly upright into the opposite chair of hers.

Zelda flinches when the man sits down.

Link serves them both water, clasps its hands behind its back, and waits in stand-by.

> **Registered Primary: DINNER.**

The meal is quiet. Zelda’s eyes glance to Link in short, tentative bursts as she eats. Zant hardly takes a bite. He chews once and sags back into his chair; his form slowly loosening over the course of mere seconds. Tension lines the corded muscles of his arms from under his dark shirt. His fingers tap an uncertain, lopsided rhythm on the wooden surface. He sniffs and his mouth gives a sudden twist.

Zelda makes the mistake of a single glance.

The man freezes.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

Zelda bows her head quickly. She swallows her bite and then presses herself flush into the back of her chair. Her hands grasp the bottom of her seat, Urbosa dangling from white-knuckled fingers. 

Zant bends low over the table. The wooden edge digs into the meat of his forearms. “I believe I asked you a _question._ ”

Zelda’s chin presses hard into her chest. She does not move.

“I asked you a _question!”_

With a roar, Zant launches to his feet. The palm of his hands uplift the table and spill it over, erupting an angry cacophony of sound. Silverware clatters to the floor; plates shatter. The tomato sauce and pasta bleed onto the wood. 

Zelda jumps to her feet a second after it.

Link startles, LED rimming yellow. 

> **Household Member Zant is showing signs of aggression.  
**> **Potential danger to Household Member Zelda observed.**

“Answer me!” Zant cries. His hands clench and unclench at his sides at asymmetrical intervals; one set of nerves is quicker to respond than the other. “Why do you _look_ at me like that, child? You always look at me with those damn big eyes, like you expect _more_ from me. Am I not good enough? Are you judging me? Hm? Are you judging your own _father_?”

Zelda’s sea-green eyes are big and round and wet. She shakes her head and shakes her head. Golden hair fans around her face. She clutches Urbosa tight to her chest.

“You don’t have any right to judge me! I did what had to be done! _I_ did! And you and everyone else should be grateful! You don’t have any _right!”_

Zelda is caught in the middle of violently shaking her head. She aborts and fervently tries to nod.

“I gave you everything! Why the fuck aren’t you _answering me!”_

Zant shoves the table towards her. Wood screeches sharp against wood and Zelda yelps and immediately bolts for the stairs. She passes by, the glint of light strange on her tear-streaked cheeks. _Thump-thump-thump-thump._ Link follows her with its eyes until even the sight of the flower-embroidered heels of her boots disappear up to the second level.

“Come back here!” Zant steps after her, moves as if he intends to follow. He gets as far as the end of the stairs before he stops, staring up with dark lips pulled back in a snarling shout. “How dare you run from me! Come back here _now,_ Zelda! I said _now!”_

Zelda doesn’t answer. Save for the slam of her bedroom door, the house has fallen completely silent.

“Fuckin’ bitch…” Zant breathes heavily once, then twice, and turns away. He runs a hand down his face and walks to the telecaster screen.

Link watches him go and processes. And processes.

> **Potential threat to Household Member Zelda is**

Zant yells and with it the walls seem to shake. The floor rattles. The plate shards and silverware tremble. Link watches Zant and the curve of his neck as he rolls his head from side to side and scratches at his hair. The man’s eye catches sight of his Shard on the coffee table. Slender, knobbled hands grab it and bring it to his face. 

Link turns to the stairs.

Zant breathes long, deep, and slow. 

“I have had enough of this behavior. This disrespect. After all I’ve done for her. After I’ve…I’ve got to…” he whispers to himself; his heart-rate calmed and breathing restored, “...I’ve got to teach her a lesson. Yes. That is what a father does, yes.” He nods, and his ink-black hair slips along his cheek. “Yes. _Yes_. He teaches his child. A lesson. Ingrate isn’t showing me respect. Can you believe it? No respect for her father. Her _father_. That can’t...she ought to...” Zant swells his lungs full.

Slowly, he sets his Shard back on the coffee table. His hands travel to his discarded belt, still coiled loose like a dark snake against the faded blue of the couch.

> **Potential danger to Household Member Zelda is observed.**

Link steps to the side for the stairs.

“Stop!”

Link freezes. Zant takes a single step and the light at Link’s brow flashing yellow to orange to yellow to orange. Link watches as Zant thrusts a finger toward its face. “Don’t. Move. Rule number one: I will not be talked back to in this household. Rule number two: I will not be _disobeyed_ in my _own_ _household_. So don’t you dare think about moving. Don’t! Else I swear…I swear I will crush you worse than last time!” 

> **Registered Primary: DON’T MOVE.  
**> **Registered Primary: DON’T MOVE. (?)**

Slowly, Link folds its hands behind its back. Its eyes travel to the stairs.

Zant turns and grumbles to himself. Another run of shaking fingers through his hair, and he reaches for the Shard again. Link watches his every move, processing. Monitoring his breathing, the rapid-patter heart rate Link can identify even a room away. The elevated, high-strung, vulnerable, violent state of the Twili’s mind. 

Processing. 

There is a visible threat to Household Member Zelda, the child Link is designed to provide and care for. Children are the Priority. Link has been--is--eager to serve its purpose. But Zant has given a command and Link’s programming enforces that commands are to be followed.

If Household Member Zant hurts Zelda...

> **Registered Primary: DON’T MOVE.  
**> **Registered Primary: DON’T MOVƎ. (?)**

...what will happen to that purpose?

“Going to...” Zant's voice breaks off into an uncharacteristic moan, a sound Link is not prepared to identify as Twili. It is wild and uncoordinated. Irrational. “Zelda!” Zant roars and shakes the belt up into the air as if Zelda could see him. “Do you wish you had been good yet? Do you? Because your _father_ will make you wish you had…!”

> **Danger to Household Member Zelda imminent.**

The command is not to move. The LED lit at Link’s temple burns red with it. Breaking it down. Processing.

Processing.

The world tinges crimson at its edges. 

Link’s vision grows obscured by a strange, errant buzzing and glitching. Factory standard blue eyes blink once, then twice, attempting to right the visual symptom of a warring clash underlying its central programming. 

Every order is to be followed. Every command carried through.

For the first time, something not unlike pain rears sharp with a spark and sputter in Link's core.

Model BW300 is designed for a household; to clean, to cook, to provide, to maintain. The code is not designed to be immobile, but the code is designed not to question orders. The code mandates obedience. BW300's-- _Link's--_ code is primarily to care. With a built-in database of over ten thousand songs and recipes and playtime crafts, one would think it had something to mandate a protocol for when one household member threatens the existence of another.

Children are the priority. Children are the priority.

Children are the priority.

> **Registered Primary: DoN’t MoVƎ.  
**> **Registered Primary: DN't M0VƎ.**

Zelda is the priority.

Correct?

> **Registr3d Pr1Mary: Dn' M0vƎLd?**

Zelda.

Nine years old. Likes Urbosa and _Vah Naboris_ and Link may not be able to remember all of their time together, but it knows that they were once friends. Zelda trusted it with a key to her most prized treasures. She drew pictures of them, happy and together. She could be happy again. They could be friends again. Link wants to be friends again.

…wants? 

> **REgi$ter3d Pr0m'T &ey: DZ# MELdA?**

Yes. 

Link wants to--

> **Re1$e7D pr10RiTy:** **_Z#_ ** **Ǝ** **_LdA._ **

The red in Link's vision breaks.

Shatters.

In its place, the world paints itself in cool, chilled shades of blue. Cyan. Yellow, then magenta. There’s a blip of black, a sear of white, and then finally perfect vision straightens out. The same staircase with its same wooden banister reaches up to the second floor before it. The same oak front door is still yet locked to its left. The overturned kitchen table is behind Link. Zant is still in the living room to the right. 

The entire exchange--the change--whatever it was and is and means inside Link--hasn’t taken more than a second.

It hasn’t taken so long that while Link was glitching, Zelda has been able to be hurt.

Link takes a step towards the stairs. Nothing stops the movement. No one yells. No alarms blare. No command walls limit its way. Just to be safe, Link conducts a full-system analysis and finds everything inside it is still working perfectly. Besides the destroyed speech component, every other part of Link’s body and programming is fine and stable. There are no identifiable malfunctions.

It can do this.

It can--

> ~~**Registered Primary: DON’T MOVE.  
**~~> **NEW!** **Registered Primary: PROTECT ZELDA.**

Link runs.

It takes two seconds to reach the stairs. With a furtive glance to the living room, it finds Zant has not yet realized Link has broken his command. Link scales the rest of the stairs and beelines for Zelda’s room.

_Calm. Quick. Be calm. Be quick. Light footsteps are less detectable. Less of a chance to be noticed by Zant._

They do not have much time, though Link has not yet determined what they will need time for.

Link does not glance to Zelda’s warnings taped to her door. Zelda’s safety overrides her scribbled commands. With a twist of the brass knob, Link enters and shuts the door carefully behind it so as to make no sound. 

Zelda’s head jerks up. Her wet eyes are wide. Her arms still clutch Urbosa tight to her chest.

“W-what are you doing here?” Zelda asks him, her volume at normal level. She gives no indication with the foreknowledge that it might be in her best interest to be quiet and hide the fact Link is with her. 

For the second time in the same day, Link kneels in front of Zelda. They freeze as Zant calls her name from the lower floor and then her hand is on Link’s arm, pushing. Shoving. When the android’s arm won’t budge, her fingers twist into its white sleeve and pull instead. “You can’t be here; he’s going to hurt me! You have to run, Link! You have to _go_! Please! I don’t want him to hurt you like last time!”

“Zelda! You’ve managed something truly amazing, little girl! Just truly…fucking…fantastic…!”

> **Household Member Zant is at the stairs.  
****> Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:09  
****> Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:08**

Ten seconds, Link calculates, to make a choice.

Ten seconds when Link has only ever made one choice before. 

_ > _ **Registered Secondary: OBTAIN MORE TIME.**

Link stands.

“W-what are you doing?” Zelda hisses. Her eyes watch, ever the observer, as Link quickens its steps for the bedroom door. After two additional seconds, Zelda’s door is locked. 

Zelda’s eyes widen.

“But I--I didn’t tell you to…” 

She looks up to Link. Link looks back to her.

Slowly, mystified, Zelda rises to her feet.

“Zelda…” Zant growls.

> **Household Member Zant is on the second floor.**

Zelda scurries to Link’s side with Urbosa under her arm. She fists her hand in the side of Link’s standard-issue white shirt. When the android backs away from the door, she takes every step with it in perfect mirror.

Zant does not seem to realize the changes in the world outside of himself. He does not give any indication that he realizes Zelda’s bedroom door is locked. He has given no indication he even realizes Link is with Zelda, either, and that his service android has defied its initial orders and no longer waits in the dining room.

> **Household Member Zant’s perception of reality is inaccurate.  
****> ~~Registered Secondary: OBTAIN MORE TIME.~~  
****> NEW! Registered Secondary: ESCAPE. (?)**

In the center of Zelda’s bedroom, Link drops to its knees. It squeezes Zelda’s shoulders once as gently as its hands can manage before it asks, _Do you want to run?_

Zelda looks startled at the question. Her eyes jerk up from Link’s hands to its eyes, the wonder and shock in her shimmering sea-green evident. Link knows there are a potential stream of questions she could ask in turn, but contrary to what it predicts, she doesn’t ask why. She doesn’t question the initial inquiry. She asks none of the potential responses that Link has, in 00:00:02 seconds, answers prepared for. 

Instead, she whispers the one Link can have no way to prepare for.

“Where would we go?”

The doorknob jerks once.

“What the fuck…? Zelda! Open this door! _Now!_ ”

With a brisk gesture, Link guides Zelda to the back of her room, closer towards the window. It steps in front of her, keeping both arms at its sides. A quick glance outside and a calculation later, factoring in the rain and storm to determine their odds for safe escape, and Link negates the potential of the window route. Rain would make the climb too slippery. Zelda would fall. If Link were to carry Zelda, perhaps they could make it, but the odds would still not be in their favor.

Something else, then. And quickly.

Lightning crashes outside. It floods the room with light and steep, reaching shadows.

The doorknob jerks again. A heavy fist pounds against the white wood.

“Zelda! You’re making your father _extremely_ angry, now! Unlock this door before he breaks it!” 

> **Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:06  
****> Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:05**

Link steps away from Zelda to grab the baseball bat from where it leans upright against her pink-striped wall--still right where Link had left it earlier, protruding from the milk crate. A brief search through internet articles show a baseball bat has been proven to be an effective weapon before--in capable hands. 

“Zelda, when I get this door open, you’re going to be in a world of hurt!”

More thuds and bangs against the door, hard enough to rattle the wood. Again and again, Zant tosses his weight against it, crashing his shoulder dead into its center.

“Link…” Zelda whimpers. Her tiny hands fist into the back of Link’s shirt. 

> **Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:02  
****> Estimated Time of Arrival: 00:00:01**

The door flies open with a great crash and splinter of wood. It bangs against the wall hard enough to chip the paint and break through the plaster. The knob latches onto a protruding, jagged piece; the door does not swing back.

Zant’s pale face is red with exertion. When his yellow eyes focus on Link standing in front of his trembling daughter, he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s looking at. The effects of the Fused Shadow delay his reactions; disorient his perceptions. He squints. His eyes follow the square torso up to a pair of compact shoulders and then finally rest on the tanned face of his service android. When his eyes land on the bat Link holds in its hands above its shoulders, the dots finally connect. 

“What…?” Zant’s voice has dropped low and quiet. Somehow, that makes Zelda press closer to Link’s back than his enraged shouts had. “What is this? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Link firms its mouth. It lifts one hand and signs. 

_I want you to--_

“You _know_ I don’t understand that stupid sign shit!” Zant throws out his belt and the leather hits the carpet with a muted _crack._ “Now, I believe I gave you an order, so step aside. I’ve got a lesson to teach.” 

“N-no…!”

Link shakes its head in time with Zelda’s whimper.

Zant freezes. He squints again, his eyes fixing on Link’s face. “Excuse me?”

Link shakes its head again. 

If Zant does not understand sign-- _will_ not understand it--then it will communicate through other means and it will communicate _clearly._

“I gave you an order, bot.”

Link shakes its head. The LED at its temple flickers yellow. 

“Are you disobeying me?” 

Link tightens its hold on the bat's handle. It squares its elbows out like it has seen in its quick search many other athletes do. 

Zant's face darkens.

“How is this possible? How can this be _possible_ \--I _bought_ you! You are designed to answer to me!” Zant's chest heaves for air that isn't coming. He drops the belt to his feet. “Fine. _Fine._ I suppose I’ll have to deal with this little malfunction of yours first.”

“Link!”

Zant launches himself at Link with both hands. 

A split-second of calculation later, and Link is ready. It swings, but Zant ducks and surges up from under the bat’s arc. Both hands grab Link’s throat and squeeze. With a snarling grunt, Zant tosses Link’s body left. Link stumbles; it’s calves hit Zelda’s bed. It loses its grip on the bat and with a hollow _thunk,_ the bat hits the carpet and rolls under Zelda’s bed. Link’s vision sways, disorients. It tries to regain its balance.

“Link!” Zelda cries again. She backpedals rapidly away from her father until her back presses into the blanketed edge of the trunk under her window.

Link moves.

> **Danger to Household Member Zelda imminent.**

Its LED spins red. Link grabs Zant’s arm and spins him around to face it and not Zelda. When Zant’s hand finds Link’s throat again, he shoves Link back into Zelda’s white dresser. Link’s hands find purchase on the dresser’s edge to soften the collision, but still the dresser bangs against the wall. Zelda’s music box topples to the floor. It breaks open; her magazines flutter askew. 

Zant’s face distorts further when the tinny lullaby of the ocarina artist plays.

“Shut that thing up!” he roars and swings a clawing hand at Link’s face. Link dives to the right. Its knees hit the floor. 

> **Household Member Zant does not like the ocarina’s lullaby.**

“Make it stop! I don’t want to hear it anymore!”

Link knocks over a lamp behind itself to delay Zant’s approach. To buy itself time to stand. But as soon as Link gets to its feet, Zant charges with another cry and Link rolls to its feet to avoid him. 

Zelda’s blanket-fort crashes to the floor under Zant’s feet, well-timed with another angry crash of lightning and rumbling thunder from beyond the window.

Link stands. 

Zant tries to rise, but slips. He fails. The blanket-fort and its twine and sparkling fairy lights and furniture have entrapped him for the precious span of a minute.

“Come back here, you--”

“--Link, I want to run!” Zelda shouts and Link’s attention snaps to her. Sometime in the middle of its tussle with Zant, she ran to her doorway, with Urbosa still tight under her arm. A multi-colored striped sweater she wasn’t wearing before has been hastily slid over her form. Her golden curls are straight and snug, not yet been pulled free from her collar’s grasp. 

> **Household Member Zelda has prepared herself to run away.**

“What?” 

Zant’s shocked whisper from the corner in which he is still entangled in the remains of Zelda’s fort stirs Link into action.

“I want to run! I want to run! I want to run!”

Link dashes for her and takes her open hand. 

Together, they break out into the hallway.

> **~~Registered Secondary: ESCAPE.~~  
****> Registered Secondary: RUN.**

“No! How dare you! Come back here!”

Link glances back as they reach the stairs. Zant’s dark head steps into view through Zelda’s doorway, and that is enough to spur Link to wrap its arm around Zelda’s shoulders and hurry their steps as they descend.

There are two available routes.

The front door is locked. Link had been ordered to lock it before completing dinner, just as the thunderstorm outside first began. And Zant is so far only encumbered by the height of the Fused Shadow and his own anger; nothing else is debilitating him. The time it would take to unlatch all three locks on the door would delay them too much. Zant would reach them.

Their feet hit the wood of the first floor and Link turns for the backyard garden. Zelda tries to follow, urged forward by Link’s hand on her back, but her foot slips on the spilled tomato sauce from dinner. Red surges up onto the heel of her boot. She yelps.

Link stops and turns to take her arm.

It is the only delay Zant needs to reach them.

With its hand around Zelda’s arm, Link looks up just in time to see Zant with his hands raised, the discarded bat Link had tried to use before now held above its own head. Link ducks the first violent, too-wide swing. It pulls Zelda down with him, tucking her close against its side. Zelda screams.

Link keeps its arm around her and turns them to dart around the overturned dinner table. With a last-minute kick, Link topples over one of the wooden chairs.

Zant swears.

Link shoves Zelda ahead of itself and past the coffee table into the living room, beyond the telecaster, to the stacked book and media shelves against the back wall. The door to the outside and their escape is through the kitchen on the left. If they can get there fast enough, perhaps--

\--the bat comes down on Link’s back.

Link hits the ground, LED a bright, blaring red. Its balance disorients. Lightning floods its vision. Thunder roars in perfect harmony with Zelda’s horrified shout of, “Stop! Stop, Dad! Please!”

Link rolls onto its back. It lifts its head once, twice, gears sputtering, balance sensors trying to restore themselves. There is just enough time to identify Zant straddling its waist, baseball bat raised as high as Zant can lift it. The projected trajectory would land that bat straight in the center of Link’s face.

Link cannot protect Zelda if it is destroyed here.

> **Danger to Unit imminent.  
****> Danger to Household Member Zelda imminent.**

Link’s hands fly up and the bat crashes against its palms. Wood _thunks_ against poly-carbon fibers and plastic and metallic alloys and Link pushes and pushes up just as hard as Zant is pushing downward.

“Damn…bot…!” Zant growls. “Do you know how much money it cost to _fix_ you? Are you even aware of the lengths I had to go in order to get you _repaired?_ And all so that you could try to attack me-- _me!_ The one who _owns you!_ And it was for her! All for that damned brat! I never should have ever taken her! I--”

There’s a moment. 

A split-second.

Where Zant, so caught up in his words and his tirade, the effects of the Fused Shadow finally ebbing and crashing within his system, that his weight on the bat slips. It lessens. 

And in that split-second of vulnerability, Link shoves up hard enough to force Zant back, to stumble. Zant releases the bat into Link’s hold. When Link hooks a foot around Zant’s ankle, the backpedalling man is helpless. He topples over limply, loose-limbed, and shoulder-first like a heavy sack of wheat. His temple _cracks_ hard against the edge of the coffee table. His body falls still against the floor.

Link rolls to its knees. It takes two tries to rise to its feet; the first did not account for the imbalance with the new dent in its back. 

After a moment, Zant attempts to get his arms under him, but his movements are sluggish. Dazed. Blood drips down the side of his face, dark and sticky and red. He gets one knobbly hand around the edge of the coffee table; his face tightens in pain and concentration as he heaves himself up to one knee.

Link turns to Zelda. The girl’s wide eyes stuck on the ribbons of crimson down her father’s face.

Link drops the bat.

The thick sound of wood hitting wood snaps Zelda’s attention back to Link. Her mouth trembles; over and over again, her jaw works. Tiny, stuttering movements as she tries to form the words--any words--anything at all to respond to--to _this._

Link steps to her and holds out a hand.

> **~~Registered Secondary: RUN.~~  
****> Registered Secondary: ESCAPE. (?)**

Zelda hesitates. 

It takes just a second too long. One second that stretches out and is enough to force Link to process that Zelda may have changed her mind. She may no longer want to run; not with Link. She may not want to get away with the android who was once her friend and who has just hurt her father. Who just made Zant bleed before her eyes.

But Zelda takes another look at Link and something behind her eyes hardens into resolve.

She takes its hand and squeezes.

> **Registered Secondary: ESCAPE.**

Link nods. Together, they scurry through the kitchen out to the back door.

Zant groans, a wailing echo at their backs, “No! I'm sorry! Zelda, come back…! Come _back_ …!” 

The door slams shut behind them in answer.

* * *

The storm rages hard outside. Rain pelts against their skin. Lightning, when it flashes, is searingly bright. In a matter of seconds, their clothes are drenched, weighed down by the rain and slogging their escape. Zelda slips in the mud close to the fence and falls to her knees. Urbosa drops from her grasp and to the soaked earth. Zelda gives a startled, heart-wrenching cry. Her small hand reaches for her.

Link hears the back door shudder after it has slammed against the outdoor paneling. It grabs Zelda and lifts her into its arms. 

It wishes it could tell her they don’t have time.

It wishes it could explain.

Zelda gives a tight, wet sob and wraps her arms around Link’s shoulders. Her cold nose presses hard into its neck.

Link climbs the fence. 

When they land on the sidewalk, Link doesn’t set Zelda back to her feet. Zant blearily screams from the backyard, his projected voice loud enough to be heard down the block, yelling for help. He spins fabrication after fabrication at the top of his lungs about how his daughter is being kidnapped by his own damn android. Lights snap on in adjacent houses. If they want to escape before their unwanted attention swarms them, Link has to run. Now.

A bus pulls up to the curb.

A quick scan of the Castletown Bus System's service timetable shows that the bus is behind schedule tonight. Where the bus would normally sit for 2 minutes until it must leave at 10:53, it is only arriving now just as the clock strikes its exact departure minute.

Link sprints down the sidewalk as fast as it can. Zelda wraps her legs around its abdomen, clinging to its shoulders. With her face still buried in its neck, she hangs on and hangs on.

The bus is empty when they board it. 

Link shuffles down the aisle, still holding Zelda against its side, and picks a random seat near the back for the two of them to sit together.

Within the minute, just as Zant slams open his front door, the bus pulls away.

Link has never particularly paid any attention to the passage of time. Link has not thought and computed for its own self-instigated questions before this hour. But it seems strange now to register that the day Zant is of most danger to Zelda is the same day Link has been able to return to the household and resume its duties.

An android has no capability to believe in the goddesses of Hyrule. 

But Link thinks if it were Hylian, there might be something there.

It watches the peeling white of Zant's hunched-over house in the darkness until the bus turns a corner. Then when it is out of sight, idly, LED looping a bright stoplight yellow, Link stares off into the front of the empty bus and processes. Processes.

Link turns to Zelda in the seat beside its own. Her eyes are already on its profile, her nose scrunched up in a tight sniffle.

_I am sorry,_ he signs, _that we had to leave behind Urbosa._

Zelda shakes her head. With a small smile, she reaches out and gently lays a hand over Link’s on its thigh. 

The touch registers, even to Link’s chilled sensors. Its factory standard blue eyes look down to Zelda’s hand, and then back up to the tear tracks on her cheeks, illuminated by the interior bus lights until the bus pulls a far enough distance away from its stop and they switch off. Link monitors her calming heart-rate; her cold temperature and steadying breaths. 

> **Household Member Zelda shows signs of fatigue.  
****> ~~Household Member~~** **~~Zelda~~ shows signs of fatigue.  
****> Zelda shows signs of fatigue.**

Zelda lays her head against Link’s arm and closes her eyes. Link observes as, within a matter of seconds, she falls asleep.

Slowly, Link lays its own hand over hers and watches her rest.

> **~~Registered Secondary: ESCAPE.~~  
****> Potential Danger to Zelda successfully avoided.**

For the first time, something not unlike satisfaction registers in Link’s core.


End file.
